


Riptide

by ticktockclockwork



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/pseuds/ticktockclockwork
Summary: How did he explain this to the bard, that his autonomy was only ever his own until someone needed a very strong hammer to deal with a very complicated nail. Yes this happened a lot. Yes people used him. Yes they forced his hand. Yes they cast aspirations on his character and when he didn't live up to them, yes they made him into the monster they needed.Yes. They did this a lot.And there was nothing to be done for it."Yes." He finally replied, not looking at the bard who was walking next to him.Jaskier looked up. "Yes you'll answer it or yes it happens a lot?"Another long silence. "Yes. It happens."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 124





	Riptide

"How often do they do that?"

Geralt looked up from his bowl of stew, spoon halfway to his mouth. Jaskier was sat across from him looking as if he hadn't touched his food, which wasn't as rare, nor his beer, which was cause for concern. Geralt had a moment where he thought he might have missed part of the conversation but Jaskier was staring off away from Geralt, looking as if the thought had just struck him out of the blue.

"Do what?" Geralt asked as he drew the spoon up to his mouth. Waste not, want not. He kept his eyes on the bard, though, trying to suss out what he was getting at. When he didn't speak again, Geralt followed his eyeline to the group of men on the other side of the room.

The men themselves weren't familiar, and indeed looked to be keeping their own company, as if they hadn't noticed Geralt and Jaskier at the back of the room. But their outfits were familiar and not in a way that left a pleasant taste in Geralt's mouth. They were acolytes of the local temple, dressed in red and gold, and emblazoned with a rearing lion on their tabards. Geralt's interest in his stew was renewed as he turned away from them but to his displeasure he found his appetite rapidly diminishing.

Any church that needed to arm their acolytes with falchions and knuckle guards was no church Geralt was interested in. And, as it was, he was even less interested in _this_ church since their run in earlier the day before.

He was starting to understand Jaskier's question.

"Leave it, Jaskier." Geralt warned, hunching tighter over his bowl and finishing it off. "And eat. You asked me to pay for you, so don't let it go to waste."

"Geralt," Jaskier hissed, bending down to get closer to Geralt's face. "They... They blackmailed you!" He kept his voice low, thankfully, but his anger was clear, a festering thought he'd been holding onto all day. There was a ruddiness to his skin that usually only showed after a long night in the presence of good company and his teeth were grit tight. "How often does that happen?"

To that Geralt had no answer.

Earlier the day before the two had been stopped while passing through town. Jaskier had sworn he knew a merchant in town who could get them a fantastic deal at the inn and Geralt needed to reshoe Roach anyways so they stopped in. Word of Geralt's presence passed through town quicker than he appreciated and not two hours passed before they were being confronted by a temple leader and six (armed) acolytes.

Apparently a young girl had become possessed by a demon and the priest wanted Geralt to eradicate her before she corrupted anyone else. Geralt had declined - that was not how demons worked, he didn't hunt people, there was no proof - but the priest made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that should he try to leave without fulfilling his duties he would be shot through with arrows before his foot passed the main gate.

And should he take the risk, he was reminded, his bardic companion was not so quick as he, the mutant.

He would also be paid, of course.

So he hunted the demon but found a girl, not but thirteen, who was possessed by nothing more than the good sense to strike out at a man who tried to stick his hand down her blouse.

Jaskier was sick with the reality, but Geralt had long grown used to the machinations of man. He helped the girl up, gave her a few orens for some locks of her hair, then sent her back to the miller's wife who had taken her in.

The hair worked to calm the populace of the city who had been riled up about the notion of a demon possessing children. And the threat of castration Geralt gave when he cornered the priest that next morning gave them clear passage out of the city.

They were not paid, but they weren't shot either and sometimes that was the best Geralt could get.

"Leave it be for now, Jaskier." Geralt muttered, wiping up the last of the sauce from his bowl. "And eat if you're going to because we're leaving."

"I haven't the appetite."

"Suit yourself." Geralt grunted, draining the last of his beer and standing. Jaskier followed suit. Their movement drew the attention of the others in the bar and for a moment Geralt thought there would be another confrontation but the acolytes wisely turned away, leaving Geralt and Jaskier to leave unaccosted.

"Will you answer my question now?" Jaskier asked again after they'd been walking for awhile, further from that inn just outside of town.

Geralt didn't respond right away. How did he explain this to the bard, that his autonomy was only ever his own until someone needed a very strong hammer to deal with a very complicated nail. Yes this happened a lot. Yes people used him. Yes they forced his hand. Yes they cast aspirations on his character and when he didn't live up to them, yes they made him into the monster they needed.

Yes. They did this a lot.

And there was nothing to be done for it.

"Yes." He finally replied, not looking at the bard who was walking next to him.

Jaskier looked up. "Yes you'll answer it or yes it happens a lot?"

Another long silence. "Yes. It happens."

Jaskier made an affronted noise and looked away, kicking a rock with his boot. "It's not right. They shouldn't use you like that." A beat and his shoulders dropped. "It's not right." Quieter this time.

Geralt glanced down to his friend, his companion, and saw him brooding. There was no point to it, no point fighting the habits of humans anymore than there was fighting the pull off the tide. Sometimes it favored you but often it did not and the only way to survive was to swim abreast and find peace where the current broke.

"Play a song Jaskier, something slow." He murmured, looking ahead again. "I find myself wanting a moment to breathe."

Jaskier looked up but had nothing more to say, so instead pulled out his lute and began to play.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many thoughts about how badly Geralt is treated in the books >:[
> 
> find me on tumblr [@ticktockclocwork](https://ticktockclockwork.tumblr.com)


End file.
